Apologia
by Chibi Lurrel
Summary: The Slytherin Quidditch team is brutal, and Terence likes it that way. Marcus doesn't know what he wants. Marcus Flint x Terence Higgs slash. R for violence and, of course, the boylove.


author's notes: This story was a long time in coming. My writing style might shift a little at the end, but I like it. A lot. Most of this was written in a notebook during English and Chemistry last year, if that tell you anything. The transitions might be a little sloppy. Whatever, I love the Quidditch boys. 

**Apologia**   
(or the Day Marcus Punched his Boyfriend in the Face)   
by Chibi Lurrel 

The hair at the nape of Terence's neck is surprisingly soft when Marcus yanks him into a kiss and his moans are muffled when Marcus shoves his knee between his legs. It's the same as the noises he was making when Marcus had entered the locker room, when Pucey and Davies were about to break his ribs. Pucey had a black eye and Davies a busted lip, but the fighting was two vs. one, and Terence's body is a Seeker's body: sleek and built for speed not fighting. Marcus told them he would handle this, he was captain after all, and waited for them to leave before he slammed Terence against the wall. 

Marcus pulls away and wipes blood that isn't his own from his lips. Terence's face is bruised, but his eyes sparkle. Marcus' hand is still twisted up in Terence's robes.   
'What do you have to say for yourself?' he grunts, and blood dribbles down Terence's chin as his face breaks into a smile.   
'We've got to stop meeting like this,' and his voice is hardly above a hoarse whisper.   
Marcus punches him in the stomach and lets him slump to the floor. 

+++ 

Terence doesn't mention the Gryffindor defeat or the aftermath; he doesn't say anything about the sex in the showers after their spectacular win over Ravenclaw.   
'Great job,' everyone tells him when he walks into the Common Room, and Marcus watches him shine.   
That weekend Marcus fucks him over a desk an abandoned Potions classroom. Terence's long-fingered hands scrabble at the wooden surface and Marcus leaves a jagged-toothed bite mark in his shoulder. 

+++ 

Terence has a collection of Muggle books from home, with covers that don't move and author's pictures that don't wink on the back. He reads all the time, and Marcus knows this because their beds are next to each other. He thinks it would be easy to go to his bed in the middle of the night, to crawl in and close the curtains, but Terence won't allow him the luxury. 'They can't know,' he had hissed, but Marcus wonders, 'How could they not?' Terence is covered in bruises, bite marks, and bloody noses, and school robes are shit at hiding hickeys. Marcus knows the others beat him up sometimes, too, for losing a game or acing a test. He wonders if they've ever fucked him, left fingerprints on his hipbones. Marcus can't bring himself to ask. 

That summer Terence owls him every Monday, never missing a letter. He writes about what he does with his Muggle friends and how he misses Hogwarts, because 'the mall is so boring when you've been to Diagon Ally.' Marcus doesn't understand a word but he writes back anyway, about Quidditch and how he misses playing with people who aren't Pucey and Bole (since they live closest) and how he's glad Snape is letting him keep his position as captain even though he failed a few classes. One Monday, Terence sends him a letter with a photograph attached. It's in color, but doesn't move, even when Marcus pokes it with his wand. Terence's eyes are crinkled up, and his blonde hair is shining in the sun. A Muggle boy in khaki shorts has his arm slung around Terence's shoulders, and Marcus' only thought is, 'I could break him in fucking two.' He thinks that Terence and he couldn't be more different then if Terence was Oliver-fucking-Wood, and wonders if writing him letters makes them friends. He can't even remember when this whole thing started. 

He knows exactly when it ends, though. 

School is back in session, and Draco Malfoy tries out for the position of Seeker. Bole scrunches up his face as he watches the boy fly and mutters, 'impudent little fuck.' Marcus snorts, because Bole tried out his 2nd year, too. 'He isn't half bad, thought,' says Davies, and Marcus puts him on the reserves. 

That night at dinner, an eagle owl Marcus doesn't recognize swoops down and drops a letter right into his hands. It doesn't even stop to eat, just flaps away. It has the Malfoy seal dripped on to the parchment, and he recognizes it from his father's study. He rips it open and Pucey peers over his shoulder, blinking. It's from Lucius Malfoy, and after reading it the first thing Marcus says is 'Fuck!'   
'I'd take him up on it,' Pucey says around a mouthful of chicken, 'I could use a new broom.'   
'Shut up, Pucey.'   
'Look, we all know how soft you are for Higgs, but-'   
'What? What do you mean by 'soft'?' Marcus is snarling and his eyes dart across the table. No on is paying them any attention; Terence is reviewing Charms with Davies.   
'Soft, like. You know. You feel sorry for him and stuff.'   
Pucey's known Marcus long enough to gauge his moods, and he knows he won't get punched for at least 10 minutes.   
''Sides,' he continues, waving greasy fingers in the air, 'Malfoy only mentions Gryffindor in the letter. Higgs could still play the other games.'   
Marcus wrinkles his brow and grunts noncommittally.   
'Don't tell anyone about this. I'll decide by Tuesday's practice.'   
Adrian Pucey smirks.   
It's Sunday. 

Adrian Pucey has been Marcus' best friend since before he had any friends, but he's never shared Marcus' enthusiasm for Quidditch. Flying runs through Marcus' blood right next to his magic, and he knows Terence feels it, too. He knows Terence will hate the compromise, because Gryffindor's Seeker is his first competition in years. Marcus could use a new broom, though; he's been flying on an old Orbital Eight for what seems like forever. He sighs and wonders if Terence will ever forgive him. 

Pucey is fidgety all through practice on Tuesday, and after they run a few plays Marcus tells his team to be prompt on Thursday, because he has an announcement. Pucey smirks, and Marcus wants to punch him. He yells, 'Hey, Higgs, come help me put this stuff away,' and they take an extra long time to store all of it. Terence spends his time quizzing Marcus on magical tubers and their properties, because if there's anything more embarrassing than failing a Hufflepuff class like Herbology, it's failing it twice. 

The shower and locker rooms are empty when they get there, and Terence is humming a song under his breath. Marcus doesn't recognize it, but can't tell if it's because it's a Muggle song or that because he just doesn't listen to music that often, anyhow. 

'So, what's this big announcement about?' Terence asks as he pulls his robes off.   
'It's a surprise.' Marcus says, a beat too late, and the words are clumsy in his mouth.   
Terence shrugs, snapping off shin guards. The gloves go, and then the pants, until he is completely naked and Marcus is fumbling with his buttons. 

Terence is lightly tanned but his hips are still white, and softly dusted with freckles. His skin is clean and healthy, free from bruises and fingerprints and blood. Marcus hasn't touched him for months, and all he wants to do is mark all over him, like an artist covering a canvas in fingerpaints. He restrains himself and finally gets off all his clothes. Terence is already under the showerhead, and Marcus joins him under the hot spray. Terence raises his eyebrows and says, 'Marc-' but is cut off by a kiss. He tries to be gentle but is instead is clumsy, so he hopes Terence will understand. He's been sucking on mints all day, and Terence's mouth tastes like the Muggle gum he always chews. The flavors mingle surprisingly well. He tries not to grip Terence's waist bruisingly hard, but the blood in his ears is demanding he just throw Terence against the wall. 

Marcus has to be gentle; this is his apology before the act. In his mind, this rules out any technical fucking, because the only times he and Terence have sex is when Terence is bleeding. He, instead, wraps a calloused hand around Terence's cock. The water is still running hot and his hair gets in his eyes. Terence moans and arches his back when Marcus starts pumping his hand. He can't get over this different Terence, this sunkissed unmarked Terence. He likes kissing, Marcus knows, so he kisses him again and their tongues mesh. Terence shudders and comes in his hand. 

Terence leans against the wall and looks at Marcus through heavy lidded eyes, and water rolls down his chest. His build is lean compared to his captain's bulk, and Marcus kisses him, resting his hands on taut shoulder muscles. Terence pulls away, leaving Marcus thinking about how he used to complain about that they never kissed enough. But then Terence leans into his ear and whispers 'Do it.' Marcus looks at him, half-closed green eyes and wet blonde hair, and it clicks. Terence wants it rough and he wants it now, and that pushes all thoughts of gentleness and apologetic gestures out of his head. 'Wait,' he says and finds a bottle that's presumably soap, and Marcus is blinded by water. He pours some on his hands and the bottle clatters to the floor. Terence is waiting and Marcus lifts him up, thanking Merlin his father bought him that weight set. They fumble for the right position and finally it's right, with Terence's back against the tiled wall and his legs locked behind Marcus. He's the only thing holding the boy up and he knows he's leaving fingerprints now, but Terence is tight from a long summer of nothing and he's warm and moaning. Marcus rocks against him, and there's a slick noise of skin against tile. Marcus isn't sure how they managed their arrangement of limbs but he sucks water off Terence's skin. Terence is all groans and heat and Marcus' thrusts are harder. Terence bites his lip and comes, blood dribbling down his chin. Marcus slams into him one last time and groans, coming. Terence slumps against the wall, sighing, and Marcus pulls out and helps him down. Terence leans into him and grins, saying 'Some shower.' Marcus sucks at his neck gently and they stand there, until they both realize the water is running cold. They wash hurriedly and are very late for dinner. Terence slides into his chair and Warrington (fucking 4th years, Marcus thinks) asks what took so long.   
'Was helping him with Charms.' He shrugs and grins lazily, a bruise blossoming on his neck, and Marcus wonders how he does it. 

+++ 

The next day Marcus posts the results and runs. There's a footnote at the bottom explaining when each Seeker will play, and another one saying the teams gets new brooms courtesy of Lucius Malfoy. He doesn't want to see Terence's face, but Pucey tells him anyway.   
'Draco looked surprised, but Higgs looked like someone had just pulled the heart right out of his chest. You're a right bastard sometimes, Marc.'   
Marcus growls and looks over at Terence. He's sitting with Bole.   
'It was your sodding idea. Higgs'll deal, I'm sure.'   
The bruise on Terence's neck is clearly visible.   
'Well, sure. I was just sayin'.' Pucey shrugs. 'Anyway, the Malfoy kid didn't even gloat, which is good because then we would've had to pound his face in.'   
'S'not like you won't later, anyway.'   
Pucey snorts. 'True.'   
Marcus watches as Terence excuses himself and walks out. His steps are stiff. 

+++ 

Marcus catches him in the hallway outside the Slytherin Dungeons.   
'Higgs!' he shouts, 'Terrence, I-'   
Terrence turns around. 'Don't.'   
'But, I. I just,' he starts, and Terence punches him in the stomach. His green eyes are cold as he watches Marcus slump and gasp for air.   
'Well?' he says, 'Aren't you going to hit me back?'   
Marcus just shakes his head.   
'I just. I.'   
Terence's eyes narrow.   
'Don't.' 

He watches him disappear and lays a hand over his stomach. It's over, Marcus thinks, that's it. 

+++ 

Terence comes late for practices and leaves early. At first he gave excuses like 'prefect duty' or 'charms essay' but now he doesn't even bother. He comes one morning and cranes his unmarred neck to watch his teammates fly overhead. Marcus is on the ground, supervising, and he turns.   
'Malfoy's a good flyer.' Terence says, and silence hangs in the air between them.   
'And he has such pale skin,' he continues, 'I bet he bruises well. I bet you love that.'   
Marcus doesn't have anything to say. This is not his gentle Terence, his letter writing Terence. This Terence is broken or shattered and he doesn't know how to repair it.   
'Fuck you,' he says, and Terence smirks.   
'Go fly, Higgs.'   
'Sure thing, Cap'n Flint.'   
That practice Terence beats Malfoy to the Snitch every time. 

+++ 

Terence is in the locker room after their first match against Gryffindor. He was right, Draco does bruise spectacularly. Marcus doesn't hit him, but he doesn't stop the others either. 

'What the fuck, Malfoy, it was on your fucking EAR!' Bole yells and kicks him, and Draco lashes out. But he's just 12 years old, and fighting back just wears him out quicker. They don't stop hitting until Draco is making broken noises in his throat instead of swearing. They back off and retreat to the showers. Draco is laying on the floor and he looks up. Terence throws him a towel.   
'Welcome to the team,' he says with a perfectly black face.   
Marcus feels a tug in his chest. 

Terence recedes to a background noise, leaving big gaps of free time in Marcus' life. He uses it to study, since he is too unimaginative to think of anything else. Oliver Wood eventually catches him in the library with a Potions text.   
'I'm surprised you can read,' he sneers, so Marcus punches him.   
'I'm surprised you're still alive.'   
Oliver stands there hold his jaw and the wounded look he gives Marcus is familiar. Marcus wants to hit him again. He leaves instead.   
Even Terence acts impressed when he outscores the class on the next Potions test. 

+++ 

The next Quidditch match is against Hufflepuff, and the air outside is frosty. The first thing Marcus notices is that his team obviously hasn't been practicing enough. The Beaters joke with each other and the other two Chasers aren't focused and he hasn't seen Higgs at practice for weeks. It's just Hufflepuff, he thinks to himself but then Diggory flies back and gives him a smug smile. Hufflepuff is up by forty points already, and he and Bletchley were definitely going to have a talk after the game. 

Marcus is furious and slams himself into a Hufflepuff Chaser, grabbing the Quaffle. The air is cold and his breath puffs up in wisps as the flies straight down the field to the goal hoops, hoping to Merlin that his Beaters will notice what's going on. It takes them a second, and he has to slam a fist into a Hufflepuff Chaser, but he scores a goal and brings them to ten. A bludger flies past his shoulder and where the hell is Davies, anyway? He glances as Pucey yanks the Quaffle from the enemy's hands and sees Diggory tailing Terence, carefully giving him some space around the tail of his broom. Terence refuses to fly on his Nimbus, so his broom is slower than usual in the cold weather. Marcus had offered a few heating charms but had been greeted by sneers. 

Davies and Warrington start playing, really playing, when Bletchley almost falls off his broom due to a bludger to his chest. Marcus doesn't know what the fuck they're thinking, anyway, but he laughs as he swoops down to catch the Quaffle as it's dropped by a blonde girl who screams as she falls off her broom. The crowds are roaring in his ears and matching up with his pulse as he flies toward the goal again. He knows it isn't for him, because no one but Slytherins cheer for Slytherins, but he suspects someone has spotted the Snitch. Marcus wishes at times like these that he could rely on Jordan's commentary, but when he plays he tunes out everything but Quidditch, and all Jordan ever did was prattle on about girls, anyway. 

He throws the Quaffle right past the startled Hufflepuff Keeper and spins around on his broom and watches as Terence and Diggory engage in some sort of bizarre Seeker ballet. Terence's hands are shaking from the cold and Diggory's face is red, his breaths coming out in great big clouds, and suddenly Terence dives straight down. Diggory tries to keep up, really, but Marcus knows he only has a fourth of the skill that Terence has, and an eighth of the brain. Terence is diving straight down and everyone is staring, except for one Hufflepuff Beater who suddenly launches a bludger at him, and it hits his wrists with a gut-wrenching noise. He tumbles through the air to the ground. Diggory, never one to let someone else have the spotlight, predictably loses control of his broom when trying to straighten out of the tight dive. He hits the earth only seconds later. Wings flutter at the edges of Terence's broken hand. 

Hooch, predictably, only summons a stretcher for Diggory, while Marcus heaves Terence off the sand and Bletchley and Warrington bleed all over their robes. The stadium had been collectively holding its breath as the Seekers had plunged back to Earth, and there was hardly any cheering for the Slytherin win. Typical. Marcus tries letting Terence limp along but it's tedious, so he just picks him up and carries him to the locker room. The Seeker is shivering and shaking, and he won't let go of the Snitch that flaps halfheartedly in his clenched, shattered hand. 

Terence is back on his feet inside the locker rooms, and he throws a punch of astounding force at Davies with his good hand. Davies has the grace to let it hit and his face darkens instantly. 'Where. The fuck. Were you,' he pants and Marcus stands behind him, fascinated by his anger and his bright pink tongue.   
'Look, mate, how was I supposed to know the Hufflepuffs learned how to play it rough?' is probably what he was going to say, but Bletchley punches him in the jaw and suddenly it's another free-for all against the Beaters. Terence hasn't stopped shaking, and Marcus, the impassive captain, can't stop looking at him. He isn't sure why Terence let him carry him, or back him up, or of anything at all. He tentatively touches Terence's shoulder.   
'I think you should go to the Infirmary.'   
Terence's broken wrist hands limp but the hand is still in a balled fist. The Snitch has stopped struggling, resigning itself to being smothered in blood and cracked bone.   
Marcus notices Terence's knees and how they're crooked and knocking against one another.   
'I don't. I don't think I can make it.' His voice is cracked and quiet, worlds away from the silver anger of minutes before.   
'Oh. Do you want me to take you?'   
Terence sort of shrugs and attempts to take a step, and fails. Marcus grabs him easily. He picks him up and walks out of the locker room, glancing back at the fighting. No one sees them. 

Terence looks defeated in his arms, shaking and sad and bruised. Marcus feels like he's just picked up a baby bird, saving it only for a life of abandonment.   
'Terence. I'm sorry,' he says and his voice is unusually small.   
Terence only whispers, 'I know, Marcus.' 

The Snitch in his hand flaps again, its broken wings glittering in the sun.   
Outside, snow begins to fall. Marcus' hands are cold. 


End file.
